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| FROM Hesse-Darmstadt every step to Moskwa’s blazing banks | |
| Was Prince Emilius found in fight before the foremost ranks; | |
| And when upon the icy waste that host was backward cast, | |
| On Beresina’s bloody bridge his banner waved the last. | |
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| His valor shed victorious grace on all that dread retreat, | 5 |
| That path across the wildering snow, athwart the blinding sleet; | |
| And every follower of his sword could all endure and dare, | |
| Becoming warriors strong in hope or stronger in despair. | |
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| Now, day and dark, along the storm the demon Cossacks sweep, | |
| The hungriest must not look for food, the weariest must not sleep; | 10 |
| No rest, but death, for horse or man, whichever first shall tire;— | |
| They see the flames destroy, but ne’er may feel the saving fire. | |
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| Thus never closed the bitter night nor rose the savage morn, | |
| But from that gallant company some noble part was shorn, | |
| And, sick at heart, the Prince resolved to keep his purposed way, | 15 |
| With steadfast forward looks, nor count the losses of the day. | |
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| At length, beside a black-burnt hut, an island of the snow,— | |
| Each head in frigid stupor bent toward the saddle-bow,— | |
| They paused, and of that sturdy troop, that thousand banded men, | |
| At one unmeditated glance he numbered only ten! | 20 |
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| Of all that high triumphant life that left his German home, | |
| Of all those hearts that beat beloved or looked for love to come, | |
| This piteous remnant hardly saved his spirit overcame, | |
| While memory raised each friendly face and called each ancient name. | |
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| Then were his words serene and firm,—“Dear brothers, it is best | 25 |
| That here, with perfect trust in Heaven, we give our bodies rest; | |
| If we have borne, like faithful men, our part of toil and pain, | |
| Where’er we wake, for Christ’s good sake, we shall not sleep in vain.” | |
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| Some murmured, others looked assent, they had no heart to speak; | |
| Dumb hands were pressed, the pallid lips approached the callous cheek; | 30 |
| They laid them side by side; and death to him at least did seem | |
| To come attired in mazy robe of variegated dream. | |
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| Once more he floated on the breast of old familiar Rhine, | |
| His mother’s and one other smile above him seemed to shine; | |
| A blessed dew of healing fell on every aching limb, | 35 |
| Till the stream broadened and the air thickened and all was dim. | |
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| Nature had bent to other laws, if that tremendous night | |
| Passed o’er his frame exposed and worn and left no deadly blight; | |
| Then wonder not that when refreshed and warm he woke at last, | |
| There lay a boundless gulf of thought between him and the past. | 40 |
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| Soon raising his astonished head he found himself alone, | |
| Sheltered beneath a genial heap of vestments not his own; | |
| The light increased, the solemn truth revealing more and more,— | |
| His soldiers’ corses self-despoiled closed up the narrow door. | |
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| That very hour, fulfilling good, miraculous succor came, | 45 |
| And Prince Emilius lived to give this worthy deed to fame. | |
| O brave fidelity in death! O strength of loving will! | |
| These are the holy balsam-drops that woeful wars distil. | |
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